The Truth Inside Yourself
by Torn Apart Paper Dinosaur
Summary: Alex held the gun, prepared to fire. Nevertheless, something stopped him. All he had to do was pull the trigger; simple when the person in front of you had destroyed your life. So why couldn't he do it?  One-shot, please tell me what you think.


Alex held the gun, prepared to fire. Nevertheless, something stopped him. All he had to do was pull the trigger; simple when the person in front of you had destroyed your life. So why couldn't he do it?

Huge thanks to my beta: Dark Rook.

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><p>"There is a right according to which we may deprive a human being of his life but non according to which we may deprive him of his death: to do so is mere cruelty." ~Friedrich Nietzsche~<p>

The Truth Inside Yourself

Alex sighed as he pulled himself up from the dirty ground of his cell. He had been here too long, losing count of the days as no one came to check up on him. He had not eaten in a while, and he slept constantly, saving his energy for when the right opportunity to escape came up.

He winced when he tried to straighten his body. His hand went to his side, putting pressure on an open wound, while his other hand grasped the smooth wall for support as he slumped against it. His senses spiked when he heard the faint tapping of footsteps.

He pulled his hand away from the wound, ignoring the blood that covered it. He wiped it on his shorts and straightened up as much as he could. Pain rippled out from various parts of his body, but he overlooked it as the steps got closer and closer to his 'home'.

He sucked in a silent breath as the man came into his line of vision. This man was the one who brought him back from torture sessions, provided him with food, and gave him minimal medical attention. But the man also brought something he was unaware of. It was written on his face, the different emotions that littered his eyes and the way he held himself telling Alex all he ever wanted to know about the man, without even a word uttered between them.

Alex caught on to his act early into his long stay at wherever he was. The man standing in front of him was scared. Scared, frightened, terrified, the list went on, but one thing stayed the same. It was always Alex. He was scared, frightened, and terrified of Alex. Alex didn't know why, he hadn't done anything remotely threatening in his time in the cell, just wait for right moment to make his move. He really didn't care why the man was terrified of him; all he knew was that the man was not really the big shot he thought he was. If Alex could see through him, then it was about time that his escape plan went into action.

The man took out his keys and slowly put them in the lock that confined the boy from the rest of the world. The door opened with a click and the man stepped inside. He stood next to the opened door and waited for Alex to come to him.

He didn't.

The man sighed and walked over to Alex. "Get up," he said in an angry voice, though it didn't faze Alex in the slightest. Alex wasn't supposed to understand him. The man was speaking English and he was only supposed to understand German.

A new psychopath had a group of followers called O.N.H.C, which stood for Opposing the Nazis for Horrific Crimes. Lame name, but it got its point across. The group had existed ever since World War II. They found Germans who looked like stereotypical Nazis — blond hair, blue eyes, and all that. Once found, these people were brought back to the compound and killed.

Therefore, with a small transformation in appearance, Alex was now a German suspected to be another upcoming Nazi trying to bring back the ultimate plan. He was captured quickly.

Alex winced in pain, whether it was from all the wounds he had sustained or the guard's voice, he played the part well. The man got down on his knees, and put a comforting hand on Alex's shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked curiosity apparent.

"Your logic," Alex whispered. The man leaned in, slightly confused, as if he thought he hadn't heard him right. He was about to ask Alex to repeat himself, but sudden pain erupted from his temple. He was out cold before he hit the ground.

Alex sighed, his fists clenched. He rolled his wrist until it popped then stretched his fingers. He glanced down at the guard, grabbing his chin and tilted the guard's head to the side so he could observe the damage.

Alex hoped he didn't hit him hard enough to kill. A bruise was already forming. He took his two fingers and found a slightly jumping pulse on his wrist. Alex let out a breath of relief, happy that he hadn't lost his touch when it came to knocking people out.

He dropped the man's wrist and went after his belt. There was a set of keys and a gun attached to it. He grabbed the keys without a second thought, but lingered over taking the gun. He knew how to use it, but did he want to use it? Of course not, but if something came up and it was a life or death situation it would come in handy.

Alex took the gun and put it under his shirt before leaving the guard without a second glance. He closed the cell door and locked it with a small click. Swiftly turning around, he walked away. He had a mission to finish, after all.

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><p>Alex was pressed up against a wall; his breathing, though silent, was coming out in ragged gasps. He had a bruise on his face and the wound on his stomach was spurting out blood that was staining his shirt.<p>

He had left his cell ten minutes ago and in that time he had run into seven guards. He had knocked out five of them, gagged one, and accidently put too much power into a blow and killed the seventh man. But the gun was still secure under his bloody shirt, not moving once since he had gotten hold of it. The best thing about the situation was the alarm hadn't gone off during his mad frenzy to try to locate the exit.

He had only been out of his cell a few times before the escape. Everything looked the same, with white walls and dull flooring. The facts that it was chilly and not a window was in sight made Alex think that he was located underground.

The white walls were blinding as the overhead fluorescent lights hit them. Alex squinted through his slightly blurry vision; a few blinks made it clear again. He looked down the hallway to his left; seeing no one. He then turned his attention to his right. Making sure that no one had followed him. Again, he saw nothing.

He quietly moved his head to peek around a wall, seeing two men standing at the end of the hallway. One of them was his torturer, Mr. Executioner. Alex thought the name fit because he killed people he was merely asked to torture. He hadn't killed Alex yet – he wasn't permitted to – but he said he would get Alex one day. The other person in the hall was the man responsible for the mission he was on. Mr. Lion. Alex called him this since even after all the torture he was put through, Alex didn't give them anything they wanted. That made Mr. Lion mad and he would snarl out demands, saying that if Alex did not answer them then he would be punished further.

Of course, he took the punishment because if he said anything they would use it against him, and then kill him. After all, they only wanted him for answers. And he would not give them what they wanted; he was trained not to.

He closed his eyes, getting ready to knock out the two. However, the crack of a bullet went through the air before he could act. Alex's breathing hitched for a moment before going back to normal. He merely waited for the right moment, the moment he had been waiting for the whole time.

Loud footsteps echoed in the hallway, coming closer to the wall that hid Alex. "Komm heraus, Henry," Mr. Lion said in German. (Come out, Henry)

Alex literally froze. How did Mr. Lion know German? He certainly didn't have an accent so he must have learned it…but why hadn't he said anything or even tried to talk to Alex? Did he hate the Nazis so much that he wouldn't dare to use their language in public?

"Ich weiB, du bist da, jezt rauskommen."(I know you're there, come out now.)

Alex slowly took out his gun and stepped around the corner. At that same instant, he brought his gun up, pointing it right between the man's eyes.

He was now face to face with both Mr. Lion and his gun. Over Mr. Lion's shoulder was Mr. Executioner's body, covered in blood.

"Ah, so schon dich zu sehen, Henry," Mr. Lion said with a smile on his face. (Ah, so nice to see you, Henry)

Alex didn't say anything, his face empty of his true emotions.

"Jetzt setzen Sie Ihre Waffe nach unten, und wir warden die Dinge auszureden. Wie klingt das?" Mr. Lion asked Alex. (Now put your gun down and we will talk things out. How does that sound?) To make himself seem more threatening, he pointed his gun at Alex's heart. He clicked the safety off and gestured for Alex to put his gun down.

Alex sighed and let his hold on his gun slacken. "Ja, reden." Alex dropped his hand to his side. (Yes, talk.)

A single shot pierced the air, similar to the way an arrow pierces a broken heart.

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><p>The Royal and General Bank was closed on account of a holiday, so to say the secretary was bored of stupid people coming in and wanting to use the bank was an understatement. Even though it clearly stated on the door that the bank was closed, the people still came in. Therefore, it was only natural that when the doors opened once more the newest secretary started going over why the bank was closed.<p>

She sighed as she typed on the computer. "We are so sorry for the inconvenience, but we are closed on an account of –" She stopped talking when she looked up.

At first, she was shocked to see the man walk into the bank like he was, but then she remembered where she worked. This was the first injured spy that she had seen. He walked forward, slightly slower than he normally would.

It finally crossed her mind that this might not be a spy. She got her act together and ran to the front of her desk.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" The woman was so frazzled she didn't see the security guard come up behind her.

"Fine," the bleeding man said as he ignored his damaged shoulder and stomach.

"Ah, Agent Rider, welcome back," the security guard stated as he walked closer to the two of them.

"I am not an Agent." Alex glared at him.

"Right, sorry about that," the security guard apologized.

Alex waved him off. The secretary looked at the guard, then at Alex, then back at the guard. "Wait," the secretary said slowly as she processed everything. "You're an Agent." The secretary looked at Alex.

"I'm not an Agent," Alex ground out. "Is Blunt here?" He moved to the elevator and stabbed the up button.

"No, Mr. Blunt is not here," the secretary said, confused.

Alex glanced over his shoulder before turning back and staring at the elevator numbers as they came down from ten. "I think you meant to say 'there is no one who works here by that name'."

"Oh well, the bank is closed –" the secretary said, trying to cover up her mistake.

"Not a problem, mistakes happen, try not to slip up again," Alex walked forward when the last number hit one and the elevator doors beeped and opened. He stepped inside.

"Oh, sir, you aren't supposed to go up there," the secretary said. He ignored the lady's attempt to get him off the elevator as he stabbed the seventeenth button, blocking out her cries of disagreement until the doors closed, silencing her.

He arrived at the seventeenth floor a moment later. The doors opened with a ding, and out came Alex Rider. He walked the halls he knew all too well, going to the office that he hated. Yet this time he didn't mind going to Blunt's office. No, this time he was ready.

"Good to see you back, Agent Rider." Mr. Crawley came up to him and tried to shake his hand.

Alex pulled out his gun. "Stay out of my way," he said, pointing the gun at Crawley's head. Crawley did not seem fazed, though he did not try to move, let alone try to shake his hand. Alex didn't even look at him as he walked past, the gun still aimed at Crawley's head. It wasn't until Alex was a few feet away that he dropped his arm to his side, and continued walking, as if nothing had happened.

He walked down the hallway and came to a door that led to an office. That office held the top person at MI6. Alex was the second in command. He didn't even bother to knock; he just opened the door, walked in and closed it again.

The office itself was as bland and boring as always. Gray carpeting and white walls covered the landscape of the room, and besides a few chairs, a couch, and of course a desk, it was nearly empty. There were no personal touches here and there, just the bluntness of the necessities.

Mr. Blunt was currently sitting at his desk, signing who knows what. He didn't even look up when Alex came in unannounced, though Alex knew Blunt was aware of his presence. "Would you like to take a seat, Alex?"

"I'll stand," was all Alex said.

"You do understand that this is a holiday, don't you?" Mr. Blunt asked as he continued signing away.

"Cut the bullshit, Blunt," Alex told him calmly.

That had gotten Blunt's attention. He looked up from his paperwork. "Whatever do you mean, Alex?"

Alex looked at him. "You know why I'm here."

"No, I don't believe I do."

"I was on a mission, and might I add it was the most idiotic undercover mission I have been on," Alex said with a straight face.

"Oh yes, that mission, did you find out what we needed?" It seemed Blunt's mind had finally started working.

"Well I gathered on the first day that they were killing off Germans they thought to be Nazis. And, while I was being tortured, I also found out how ignorant you are."

Blunt raised his eyebrows before he spoke again. "You do realize that you are talking to not only a superior, but the head of MI6?"

"Yes, and you do understand that I nearly died, right?" Alex didn't give Blunt any time to react to the news as he continued. "And how naïve do you think I am? Did you really think I wouldn't find out you hired an assassin to kill Jack?"

"We did not want to waste resources, and look, you came out fine. How you do the mission does not concern me as long as you finish it. However, you were never supposed to find out about your guardian," Blunt said, his words laced with curiosity.

"I see you care about your number one spy, but that doesn't matter. I just want to know why you had Jack killed. Was she really that much of a threat?" Alex asked. His eyes revealed a desperate want for justice.

"She was too much of a distraction for you. If she was out of the way, we thought you would do the missions without a second thought. And you did. So did you kill the target?" Blunt was only interested in if he did what he was expected to do.

Alex shook his head. "No, I didn't need to kill him. He shot me in the shoulder and I knocked him out and called the police, so it's all taken care of. Blunt, I am not some killing machine of yours."

"You must be upset that I killed Jack. And since you have a gun, why not just release that built up anger? Shoot me." Blunt looked up at Alex, who stood there slightly shocked.

"You want me to shoot you?" Alex questioned Blunt's sanity right now. He glanced down at the gun that he had recently claimed as his own. Could he really shoot Blunt? It couldn't be too hard… Alex lifted his arm up. It suddenly felt heavy, like the gun was weighing him down. He pointed it directly at his boss and clicked the safety off. The world seemed to come to a standstill; Alex had a decision to make. It seemed like the easiest one he'd ever make, but why did it seem so hard to pull the little trigger?

"It's not that hard, Alex. Just lift your arm, click the safety off, and pull the trigger. Come on, if you don't I will show you that you were meant to be a spy and that you're not as innocent as you think you are. You will kill one day, why not it be now, in revenge or justice, however you choose to look at it?" Blunt spoke as if he were talking about the weather instead of his life.

Alex let emotion show in his face for the first time in a while. It was remorse. He felt guilty that the thought of killing his boss in cold blood had even crossed his mind.

"No."

To say that Blunt was surprised would be an understatement. "What do you mean no? Why?"

"I can't kill you, Blunt. You may be right to say I am meant to be a spy, but not all spies are murderers. And I won't kill you just because you want me to. I will not stoop to your level; I have more dignity than that," Alex said with a straight face.

Blunt opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Alex clicked the safety back on, and lowered his arm. He put the gun back in his waistband and turned to walk out the door. "I won't take orders from you anymore, Blunt. I quit."

Alex sighed as the elevator doors opened, leading him to the lobby. The secretary was still there, but the security guard was gone. The secretary waved goodbye. He waved back. And for the first time since he had last seen his uncle, he truly smiled.

It was a one of a kind, happy and natural smile.

Alex Rider was his own person and he made his own decisions. No one controlled him. Nobody. He walked out onto the street and continued walking, never looking back. He was satisfied he would never step foot in the Royal and General again.

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><p>AN: So how was it? Tell me by dropping a review, thanks! :D<p> 


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